


Wants and Needs

by mandosmistress



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Cum Swallowing, Dom Mando, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Medical Procedures, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex Male Receiving, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 02:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandosmistress/pseuds/mandosmistress
Summary: “I don’t need anything from you.”He stares down at your slightly flushed cheeks, letting silence settle between the both of you before speaking.“Oh, I think you do,” he observes, his voice dropping to a devastatingly husky pitch.He picks the bounty puck up off the counter and returns it to his utility belt.“Everybody needs something,” he says slowly, emphasizing each word. He rests his gloved hands on the edge of the counter and leans forward slightly. “Even if they don’t know it yet.”
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Wants and Needs

“You have something I want.” A low voice rumbles into your ears from above.

You look up from your holopad in confusion. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in. The generic, “How can I help you?” dies on your lips.

He’s so tall and broad. He blocks out the light shining in from the window behind him, leaving you in shadow. It makes the sparkle of his armor all the more entrancing. You’ve never seen anything like it. The perfectly polished metal covers almost every inch of him, including his face. There is just a t-shaped visor set into a silver helmet. A Mandalorian. You shiver in apprehension. Apprehension and something else that you can’t quite place.

He is silent for too long. 

Finally, he sets a black disc on the counter and presses the top. A rotating hologram depicting a very unpleasant human face appears. 

“What can you tell me about him?”

The Mandalorian’s voice is deep and rough. The sound of it makes your stomach flip over.

You recognize the man in the hologram. He had staggered into the clinic three days ago, screaming at the top of his lungs and clutching a blaster wound on his side. You also recognize the device in front of you now. It’s a bounty puck. Which makes this armored man a bounty hunter.

You tilt your head up and stare into the blackness of his visor. “Sorry, but I can’t tell you anything. Even if he’d been here, we don’t share medical record data.”

You have no reason to protect the patient in question. But what you were saying was the truth. If you shared medical data, the certification board could close down your tiny facility.

“I can pay you for the information.”

You are a bit insulted by his offer. “That doesn’t change the fact that I can’t share it. And I don’t need your money.”

His head tilts slightly as he considers you. “Then what do you need?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What do you need? From me. For the information.”

“I don’t need anything from you.” 

He stares down at your slightly flushed cheeks, letting silence settle between the both of you before speaking.

“Oh, I think you do,” he observes, his voice dropping to a devastatingly husky pitch.

He picks the bounty puck up off the counter and returns it to his utility belt.

“Everybody needs something,” he says slowly, emphasizing each word. He rests his gloved hands on the edge of the counter and leans forward slightly. “Even if they don’t know it yet.”

You just stand there staring at him, willing yourself to move or speak but failing at both. The audacity of this man is astounding. And it’s also very, very hot.

“Think it over. I’ll be back.” Without waiting for a reply, he turns and strides out the clinic door.

You play the strange exchange over and over again in your mind as you go through the motions of your job. Was he really going to come back later? What would you say? You don’t really need anything from him. Except for - no, stop. Clearly, it had been far too long with anything other than your own fingers between your legs. But that was what he had been hinting at, wasn’t it? Desire settles between your legs, throbbing hot and humid. 

He doesn’t return. Disappointment sinks like a stone in your stomach as you finish tidying up at the end of the day. It was stupid to want him to come back anyway. You weren’t going to give him any information. He is just interesting. That’s all. A diversion. It’s not every day a big, strapping Mandalorian shows up in your waiting room. Ok, maybe he was also pretty attractive Mandalorian, in his shining armor and with that sly confidence of his. As if he owned the room and everything in it. Everything meaning you in this case.

You step out of the front door of the clinic and press your thumb to the keypad to lock it. The sun sets fast during this season, so the darkness is already deepening outside. Your small apartment is located in the back, above the clinic. Short commute. You fumble with the belongings that fill your arm and move carefully, trying to avoid the ice on the ground.

“Do you know what you need yet?”

You shriek and drop the box full of fruit gifted to you by a grateful patient. Spinning around, you see the glimmer of moonlight bouncing off beskar. 

“Maker, what the hell?! You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry.” He doesn’t really sound overly sorry. More amused if anything.

“Look, I’m not going to give you the info-“

You abruptly stop talking. The Mandalorian is on one knee, picking up the small blue fruits that have fallen out of the box at your feet. Fat drops of crimson splatter onto the white snow beneath him every time he moves his left arm.

“You’re hurt! Your arm is bleeding.” He shifts his gaze from the havarfruit to his bicep.

“I know. Well, I didn’t realize it was bleeding this much.”

He finishes gathering the havarfruit and puts them all back in the box. Standing, he holds the container out to you.

“So, you don’t need anything from me?”

“What I need is for you not to bleed all over the walkway in front of my clinic. Bad for business.”

You glance back at the clinic door with a frown. “Look, I just started the exam room sanicycles and powered down the medical droids, so I can’t treat your arm in there. Just...oh, hell, just follow me upstairs so I can look at that for you.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I’m the medic here, not you. Come on.” 

You chew your lip, your bravado diminishing as you realize you are about to lead a heavily armed, faceless stranger into your home. 

“Mandalorians are...honorable, right?” You vaguely recall this being a highly regarded trait in their culture.

“Yes. Always.”

“Just, don’t try anything.”

“Never.” He sounded truly stunned by your implication.

You nod curtly and head up the staircase around the back. He follows silently.

You open the door and set down your armfull of things on the kitchen counters. As you pass the dining area, you wave vaguely in that direction.

“Sit. Let me grab some things.” You find your medical kit and return to find him sitting at the table as instructed. He made your furniture suddenly look small.

You slip on some disposable gloves and gently investigate his upper arm. There is a jagged slash through the fabric of his sleeve starting at his pauldron and continuing down towards his elbow. A strip of black cloth has been wrapped tightly around his bicep, but the makeshift bandage is saturated with blood.

Refocusing your attention, you gesture towards the armor around his forearm and the piece on his shoulder. “Can you take those off? Sorry, I don’t know what’s allowed…but it will help me maneuver better.”

He just nods and removes the pauldron and vambrace. Carefully, he sets the two pieces on the table. You get the feeling that he takes better care of his armor than he does of his own person.

“I’m going to cut away this sleeve so I can see better. Sorry, but the shirt is ruined anyway.”

He shrugs. The movement causes a small hiss of pain to escape from his helmet. The arm is hurting him then. You snip a rectangle out of the upper part of his sleeve. The improvised bandage gets cut away as well. Next, you wipe away the blood that is still seeping from the wound to see what you're dealing with. A deep, jagged laceration mars his golden brown skin. A vibroblade cut by the look of it. 

“This is very deep. I’m going to spray it with bacta and then stitch it up. That will hurt less and leave less scarring than the cauterizer.”

He grunted noncommittally. “Whatever is easier for you.”

“I’m going to do what will help you heal best. So, the stitches. I have to do it by hand, I don’t have my autostitch here.” 

He sits through the procedure with a minimum of flinching. His pain tolerance is impressive. But given the number of scars that criss crossed his skin, he must be used to this sort of thing by now. In an attempt to distract him from the pain while you pierce his skin with the needle, you ask him questions.

“What’s your name?”

“Mando.”

“That’s not you real name though, right?”

“No.”

“Where are you from?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He’s not much of a conversationalist. You finish your work, wrapping the stitched up cut with gauze and giving him instructions on how to care for the wound as it heals. His visor locks onto your face as you speak. 

“Thank you,” he says, his voice genuine.

Your words fail you again as his gaze burns into you.  
Then he interrupts your thoughts with that rich, smoky voice.

“I caught him. That bounty. He did cut me but he’s in carbonite now.”

You stare at him in confusion. “Then why did you come back? You don’t need information from me anymore,”

“I came back because I wanted to see you again.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Wanted to give you what you need, beautiful girl.”

He slowly takes off his gloves and leans in closer. You can smell his skin, a heady mix of soap and the salty tang of the sweat he must have worked up during his hunt. The added aroma of leather and metal and blaster residue wafts off him, all combining into an intoxicating masculine scent that leaves you reeling. 

“Will you let me? Let me touch you?” he rasps. 

His words go straight to your core. Your hot, wet cunt has been dripping since he returned and now it is positively soaking through your panties. You have lost the ability to gather your thoughts and form them into words. All you can do is stare at him while your breathing quickens and your skin flushes. After a minute of your silence, he breaks the quiet with more deep, dark, honeyed words.

“I think you want me to,” he murmurs.

The Mandalorian gets up from his chair and steps towards you until you're backed into the table, the edge pressing into your lower back. He stands in your space, so close you can hear him breathing.

“But you have to say it, sweetheart. Or I can leave right now, if that’s what you prefer.”

Your body is on fire, a blaze stoked by his words and the nearness of his tall, muscular body. You need to tell him what you want. It’s so reckless, not like you at all, but you need his touch. You feel like you’ll go mad without it. He’s a stranger. You don’t know his real name, haven’t seen his face. But you want him more than you’ve ever craved anyone. You want him, need him. Your pussy is aching for him, clenching hard and sopping wet at the thought of his hands all over you.

“I do...I want you to touch me. Everywhere. Please,” you finally choke out.

“Good girl.” he rasps in your ear.

He slowly grazes your cheek and neck with his warm fingers. Then his hands go to your waist, pulling you close enough to feel his rock hard erection under his pants and pressing it into your stomach. You moan at the feeling of his stiff cock.

“I definitely want to touch you, sweet thing. Touch you until you scream my name.”

His long fingers start to roam slowly over your body, caressing your breasts and grabbing handfuls of the soft flesh at your backside. Those large hands, flecked with scars, have probably killed more times than you care to contemplate, but now they are sliding over your flesh and making you weak with desire. 

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he sighs.

You whimper as his hands slide under your shirt, stroking soft skin and plucking pebbled nipples. His other hand trails down the smooth skin of your belly. Determined fingers move lower, but he pauses at the waistband of your leggings. Your hips reflexively cant forward into his hand.

“Fuck, I know your body wants this. But, if you change your mind, tell me to stop and I will.”

“Don’t stop, Mando.”

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs.

Slowly, he eases your leggings and panties down your thighs. He pushes his palm against your cunt, cupping it in his hand and sliding his heated skin against you until you moan. Then his clever fingers start to explore in earnest, spreading apart your damp folds, lightly circling your entrance.

“Maker, you’re so fucking wet. I’ve barely even touched you. Is all this for me?”

“Yes… I just want you so bad,” you whimper.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get me, needy little thing.”

With that he thrusts two fingers into you and pumps them in and out. His thumb finds your swollen clit and circles it with a firm, practiced touch. It feels good. So, so good.

“Oh, Mando…” you whine, digging your fingers underneath his chest plate.

He curls his fingers just right, rubbing against every special spot inside you. His movements take on a devastating rhythm, one that sends you arching into him as you mewl against his broad chest.

“Oh, Maker, I think I’m gonna come,” you gasp.

“Already? Mmmm...I like how much you want this, sweet girl. Just so desperate for me.”

His fingers stop and, after a moment, you smack his chest plate in frustration. 

“Beg.”

You waste no time doing so, just wanting more of him. “Please. Please make me come, Mando. Please keep working your fingers in my cunt. Please, please.”

“Hmmm…and what will you do to get all that?

“Anything!” you cry in aggravation.

“Be more specific. Will you suck my cock maybe? Or let me bend you over the table here and fuck you senseless? Let me come on your tits? What?”

You practically swoon at his suggestions. “Any of that! All of it! Please, Mando!”

“You really are a good girl.” He stuffs three fingers inside you and resumes thrusting into you. His thumb rubs your clit again, and he watches your reaction to find the perfect pressure. You are reduced to a whining, panting mess before him.

“So gorgeous. I wanna see how you look when you come. Hear all your pretty noises,” he coos.

“So close…” you gasp.

“Come for me then. All over my hand.”

His domineering command sends you right over the edge. You feel the pleasure crash over you, overwhelming and irresistible. Everything that was tight and tense inside you pulses, throbs and then lets go. Your cunt clenches hard around his fingers and you squirt hot juice everywhere. You are vaguely aware of wailing, a jumble of words falling from your lips.

“That was beautiful, sweet thing. You came so hard for me,” Mando groans with approval.

All you could do was nod weakly and lean against him. That was easily the best orgasm of your life.

“Let’s make you do that again,” he whispers hoarsely.

His hands turn you around, pressing you hips against the edge of the table. He pushes between your shoulder blades to guide your upper body onto the wooden surface. You whine a little because you are still a little over sensitive, but you have a feeling he doesn’t want to wait another minute to fuck you. After the attention he has lavished on you already, you don’t want to deny him anything. He nudges your legs apart and unfastens his pants with a groan.

You hear him spit on his hand and stroke his cock to coat it. Then he moves forward and lines his tip up with your entrance. Your eyes open wide as you feel the thick head of his cock. It’s more than you’ve ever felt. Thank the Maker he has already gotten you so wet and stretched you open. Now you know why.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget your name, sweetheart.” he growls as he grabs your hips. 

Then he buries himself in your hole, sheathing himself completely. His cock is big, so big you can feel the stretch of it and how he bottoms out inside you. His first aggressive thrust takes your breath away.

“Feel that? That’s me filling you up,” he snarls.

He starts snapping his hips against you, setting a brutal pace. You cry out in pain and pleasure as you adjust to his size and his feral thrusting. He rails into you like his life depended on it, filth spilling from his lips. 

“So fucking good to me...just bending over and taking it...letting me fuck this sweet pussy...pound into it..make it mine...never gonna be the same after me...you take me so well, needy girl...gonna make you come all over my cock and then suck all that mess off it...fuck, fuck, fuck…”

His words put a spell over you, making you drip and squeeze around him as he just keeps splitting you open on that perfect cock. Every thrust shoves your hips against the table, knocks the breath out of you, slaps his balls against your clit. He is wrecking you completely, making that tightness in your core wind up again. You gasp and moan, unable to control the sounds coming out of your mouth.

Somehow he speeds up ever more. His hand slides around your hip and starts pressing into your clit, rubbing tight circles. “Gonna come again for me like a good girl?”

“Oh Maker, almost there. Please don’t stop, Mando. Feels so so so good.”

Growling, he reaches under you to grab a breast with his free hand. He rolls your hardened nipple expertly between pulls and pinches. His smooth beskar helmet drops down to rest on your neck, his breath hard and fast in your ear.

Then the tight heat that had been building at your core flares outwards and strikes every part of you like lightening. Your release is an explosion, like a dozen fireworks, white light bursting behind your eyelids.

“Oh, Mando, oh yes yes yes fuck yes!”

He slows his thrusting and then just stays inside you while you float back down from you high.

“Was that good?” he asks huskily.

“Yes, Maker, yes. Holy shit, you fuck like an animal, Mando.”

“We’re not done just yet, sweet thing. I remember you agreeing to suck my cock. So kneel, pretty girl.”

You are adrift in a postorgasmic daze still but you obey, sinking to your knees in front of him.

“Good girl. Now open up that sexy mouth so I can fuck it.”

His cock is huge and you struggle to wrap your lips around it. You slowly get used to his size and start to bob up and down. You try to open your throat up so you can cram more of him in your mouth. He tastes like your pussy.

“Fuck I’m not gonna last. I just...I just wanted to shoot my load down that pretty throat.”

You moan in approval as you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks. Your tongue circles around his tip and licks the underside of it. Then you lap at his balls and take them in your mouth for a slow suck. He is grunting and moaning above you, melting at the touch of your mouth.

“If it’s too much, tap my leg,” he grits out, stroking your hair lightly.

Then the moment of tenderness is gone. He laces his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer as he starts rutting into your mouth. You gag as he pushes deep into your throat.

“Fuck, such a good girl. Doing so well. Want you to choke on it when I come,” he growls.

And you do choke, drool dripping down your chin and tears streaming from your eyes. He comes hard, his cock shoved as deep into your mouth as possible. You feel his balls on your chin, drawing up tight as hot cum spurts into your throat. Staring up at him, you swallow it down. It fills your mouth, all hot and thick and salty, and drips out of the corners of your mouth. You swallow again and wipe away the drops on your lips, plunging your fingers in your mouth to suck up every drop.

The Mandalorian is panting above you, his fingers loosening their grip from your hair. He drops into the chair behind him with a long sigh and reaches out a hand to pull you up into his lap.

“You’re incredible. Thank you,” he murmurs softly in your ear. 

“I was thinking the same of you.” You look up at him with a smile, taking in the shining silver of his helmet.

“Glad I could give you what you need.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s be friends on Tumblr @mandosmistress


End file.
